Nihil Novi
by Golden Moon Huntress
Summary: Snippets of day to day life in the Districts.
1. District One

**Author's Note**

So this is meant to be set some time between the Ninety Third and Ninety Fourth Games, tying into Canem Canis Edit, but there's pretty much nothing that says it can't stand as a standalone, and is pretty much exactly what it says on the tin: bits and pieces from ordinary life in the Districts.

Some of it is focused around normal days, but some of it is also focused around 'big events' for certain people. Because it only shows small amounts, there may be no given context for certain things or characters, and chapters might end before the event is over. Also please bear in mind that some characters might have mindsets or beliefs you don't agree with.

If any of the character seem familiar, that's because a few of them are based off old characters submitted to SYOTs that have since been discontinued/abandoned/deleted.

I do not own the Hunger Games.

This chapter contains some minor swear words.

* * *

"Rejected?" shrieked Varity. "What do you mean she's been rejected?"

"I'm sorry Ms Richards. Your daughter didn't score highly enough to qualify for St Trialians. You are welcome to enter her again next year."

"No! I entered her this year! How can you possibly be rejecting her?"

"As I said, Sparkle is it, simply failed to score high enough. We require a score of seventy percent or higher; your daughter scored fifty three point two. Now, I do know Saint Germain accepts students with scores of fifty upwards, and Revlon takes all who apply."

Varity slammed her hands down on the desk. "Revlon is for jumped up guttersnipes and Saint Germain's is a dump. St Trialians is the best!"

The so called Headmistress, a tall, regal looking blonde, leant back in her chair. "And as such, Competition to enter is high. I am sorry, but Sparkle did not meet our requirements and therefore cannot be admitted. My recomendation would be to enter her into a different academy and attempt admittance to St Trialians again next year."

"I am not going to have her waste a year!"

"I am afraid I don't quite know what you want me to do Ms Richards!"

"I want you to admit my Sparkle!"

"Even if we could accept her based on her results, I am afraid the intake group is complete."

"Then remove one of them."

"What?"

"Come on, how much would it take? I'm sure you can remove one of the brats."

"Ms Richards-"

Varity rmoved her purse from her handbag. "How much?"

"Ms Richards!" Miss Klaret snapped. "You daughter has not and will not be accepted! Now I am sorry, but I am going to leave you to leave now."

"You'll regret this! My Sparkle is better than any of the little sluts you've accepted instead of her!"

"Ms Richardson! That is more than enough! I need you to leave!"

Varity stood, glaring down at her. Miss Klaret stood and straightened out her blouse.

"I wouldn't spend one more minute in this dump if you paid me to! My Sparkle could beat any one of your brats any day!"

Miss Klaret gave her a sickly sweet smile. "If that was true, she would hve been admitted instead of them, wouldn't she? Now, are you leaving or shall I call security?"

"I'm leaving! I only want you to know what a big mistake you're making!"

Miss Klaret stepped past her and opened the door. "I'll see you out."

The route out, oh-so-coincidentally,c ut past several of the training halls and classrooms, including one where a small class of fiteen girls were intently listening to an instructor lead an induction class on swordfighting.

"And you couldn't have removed any of these little brats?"

"I'm afraid not. They earned their places. As I said before, I recommend trying one of the other academies. Sparkle scored well, simply not well enough for St Trialians."

"When my Sparkle outscores and beats all your little sluts, you'll realise what a mistake you've makde."

"I am sorry for any disappointment Ms Richardson. I do hope you enter Sparkle next year. She is very young to be starting after all."

The damn woman didn't even know what she was talking about!

"My Sparkle will attend this school over my dead body. Now, if you'd excuse me."

Instead of heading straight home, Varity first went uptown to collect Sparkle and Light. Sparkle immediately began bothering her for donuts, because, apparently, some girl called Tanya had them and she wanted them too. Light, meanwhile, was reading some book.

"Sweetie, we'll get onuts on the way home, okay?"

"I want them now!"

"We'll get some nice fresh ones."

"Now now now!"

"Come along sweetheart. We'll buy some on the way. Light, hurry up1 We don't have all day!"

Light hurried to catch up with them as they headed over to the school gates. Small children in their blue and white uniforms rushed about them.

"Mummy! Can you slow down! My foot hurts!"

Varity huffed, waiting for Light to catch up and then reaching back to seize his arm and drag him along after them.

They stopped by the Sapphyre's Bakery and purchased a dozen donuts, one of which Sparkle munched on as they walked.

"Can I start my new school soon?" Sparkle asked. "You promised!"

"I know sweetie, and I'm sorry. You won't be going there any more."

"But why not? It's pretty!"

"Because I'm going to find you something much better. You don't need that trash."

"Okay mummy."

"Can I have a donut?" asked Light.

"Not now. We're almost home."

Opal met them in the living room, which was half covered in malformed Peacekeeper figurines.

"Why hasn't this been cleared up yet?"

"Sorry Ms Richards. I've been trying, but the twins keep-"

There was an ear-piercing shriek from one of the two toddlers – Varity was unsure which – and they hurls several handfuls of toy animals from the playpen. Opal sighed.

"Sorry Ms Richards."

"I expect so. Get this mess cleared up; what did I hire you for?"

"Yes Ms Richards; sorry Ms Richards."

"Light, help clear up this mess."

"Yes mummy."

Varity carried the bag of donuts into the kitchen and dropped them on the counter for the cook. "For after dinner."

"Yes ma'am."

At least she knew what she was doing. Varity returned to the living room doorway and stuck her head through. "If anyone needs me, I'll be in the office."

"Yes Ms Richards."

"Can I have another donut?"

"Of course you can. Go ask the cook."

Varity retired to the office as her children chattered into the background and sank into the computer chair. One of the twins gave another shriek as she opened a new document and began to type.

WANTED. Tutor(s) for hire.


	2. District Two

**Author's Note**

I do not own the Hunger Games.

A big thank you to TheAmazingJAJ and Goldie031 for the follows and WolfyRose12 for the favourite!

* * *

Strike.

Strike.

Strike.

Heave.

Heave.

Heave.

The grunts and shouts of the quarrymen echoed around the space, bouncing from the rock.

Heave.

Heave.

Heave.

There were machines that could do this much eaier and faster, Augustus was sure of it. But that would make life too easy, and hundreds, if not thousands, of men would be out of a job.

Heave.

Heave.

Heave.

While District Two supplied more Peacekeepers than stone these days, the quarries were still critical as the only steady supply of stonemasonry and stonework in Panem. For the poorer thirty to forty percent of the population in Two, they were what they called work, and, for nine hours a day, work.

Heave.

Heave.

Heave.

The team of ten men dropped the heavy chunk of stone onto the hove rsled to be taken to the top of the quarry. From there it would be sorted and taken away for use. Augustus turned and marched back to the section of quarry they were working on today. His father had been a stonemason, but he was a third son, one of five, born to the Capitol's demands of 'do your duty for Panem!' He found his new spot and swung the pickaxe from his shoulder.

Strike.

Strike.

Strike.

He had had dreams once. When he was young he had dreamed of competing in the Hunger Games and bringing honour home to his family and District. He had trained for eleven years, but when push came to shove he was still beneath average, not good enough for the Peacekeepers and certainly not good enough to enter as tribute. All that time struggling and working, and for what? The dream of a better life?

Augustus smiled.

Fuck that.

Strike.

Strike.

Strike.

When he was a little older than young, he dreamed of being a Peacekeeper. He wanted to travel to other Districts, to see Panem, to meet new people. But he failed test after test after test, and with each one his classmates laughed more and more and the knife sunk deeper into his heart. He failed tribute intake at sixteen and Peacekeeper intake at nineteen, and now here he was.

Strike.

Strike.

Strike.

He once considered setting up as a stonemason, but they were so numberous in Two that you had to be the best – or extremely lucky – to get any work, and Augustus felt he was neither.

Strike.

Strike.

Strike.

The quarries always needed men, now more than ever with the poplation dropping, and they would take almost everyone who applied, so long as they could swing a pickaxe. There were some boys here as young as fourteen, already big enough to lift and use their pickaxes, therefore big enough to work.

Strike.

Strike.

Strike.

It took perhaps an hour for the piece of rock to come loose. They lifted it free and began to haul it up the slope.

Heave.

Heave.

Heave.

A new sled awaited them at the top. They dropped the slab of rock as the foreman's whistle blew. Shift change. A mass exodas of quarry workers immediately began as they headed for the cold showers to bathe and change. As always, the water was icy cold and unpleasant. Augustus lathered with the cheap soap, washed, and then made his way to his locker for clean clothes and to collect his belongings.

Third shift was arrivingfor the evening as he left, trooping in looking tired and frustrated. It was another month before he would have third shift again.

He took the shuttle bus back to the outskirts of the main settlement in Two. The closest stop was four streets from his home, and he ambled back slowly, stopping to buy some small pastries for dinner as he passé a stall selling them. He ate one as he walked home, filling the hole in his stomach. The Styx twins came racing past him while he was eating, the boy ducking around him with inches to spare and the girl bounding up onto the wall, narrowly avoiding a collision with an old biddy and her toddler.

"Watch it!" Augustus shouted.

"Afternoon Mr Blackson!" the girl called back, holding her hand out to yank her brother up so they could vanish across the rooftops.

Always in a rush those two.

One day one of them was going to break their neck.

He kicked off his boots on the porch before letting himself.

"Don't treck through the house if you're dirty," Jetta called.

"It's fine!"

"Its not fine; you know how hard it is to clean!" She appeared in the common space doorway, Cassial in her arms. Augustus smiled.

"There's my baby boy!"

Jetta turned to the side. "Shower first."

He huffed, but headed through to the bathroom regardless. At least they had warm water here, unlike most of the District when he had been a kid. He washed again, changed into clean clothes and made his way downstairs to join his family.

He might not have been a tribute or a Peacekeeper like he once dreamed of being, but that was okay.

If he had gone another way, he might not have had them.


	3. District Three

**Author's Note**

I do not own the Hunger Games.

CHAPTER WARNING: Transphobia and bullying.

* * *

'Freak.'

The word had been painted across her desk in large, bold, red letters. Delta traced a finger across them.

Freak.

That was her.

Because she was a girl, not a boy like they wanted her to be.

"Dashell, are you going to sit down?"

"But Miss-"

"Dashell. Sit."

Delta sat.

* * *

At lunchbreak a few of the boys cornered her. They pushed her down in the mud, which made her cry, and then threatened to cut her hair, which only made her cry harder, because her hair was the only thing beautiful about her.

"Why can't you just be normal you little freak?"

"My mummy says there's nothing wrong with me."

"Well, guess what? You're mummy's a freak just like you!"

"She is not!"

"My dad says your mum's a freak that dates other women," said one of the bigger boys.

"Is that true? Your mom's a dyke?"

"I bet she fucks that freak Peacekeeper."

"That's not true," Delta tried to say, but her voice was wavering.

It wasn't true!

"Oh my god. You're such a little freak Dashell."

One of the bigger boys, Albert, stepped forwards and shoved her back a step. His brother, Edgar, pushed her again from the left, and she fell again.

"Why can't you just be normal?"

"Yeah, just be normal!"

One of the other boys kicked her. Delta struggled to get to her feet, but a blonde from the year above pushed her down again.

"I bet you go home and play with dolls like a little girl!"

"I am a girl!"

"Little freak!"

"Weirdo!"

"Creep!"

"It's not true," she tried to say, "it's not true."

"Freak!"

"Why don't you fight back?"

"Why don't you leave me alone!" she screamed back, struggling to her feet and bolting across the playground. She half-expected them to follow, but they didn't.

Delta shrunk down against the wall and pulled her knees up to her chest. Maybe it would be best if she did just get some new clothes and a haircut.

They hated her as a girl.

A shadow fell across her.

"What now?"

"You shouldn't cry," said a voice. "You're giving them what they want."  
Delta sniffled and lifted her head. It was one of the girls from a couple of years above her.

"What?"

"They want to make you cry. You shouldn't give them what they want."

Delta dragged a hand across her eyes. "I just want them to leave me alone."

"But if you keep crying and getting upset, they'll keep coming back."

"But it's not fair!"

The girl shrugged. "Life's not fair!"

She wasn't much taller than Delta herself, she judged, with dark bobbed hair and large dark eyes.

"I'm not a freak."

"Of course you're not. It's no one else's business who you are."

"Then why are they mea to me?"

"Because they think it's their business."

Delta buried her face in her knees. "It's not fair."

"Life's not fair," the girl said again. "But you still shouldn't give them what they want. They'll give up eventually."

* * *

Delta spent the rest of the day trying not to cry and remembering what the girl had said.

D_on't give them what they want. _She traced the letters on her desk with one finger and told herself not to cry. She wasn't a freak. She _wasn't._ She knew, and if they didn't, maybe the older girl was right. It was no one else's business who or what she was.

She spotted the older girl on her way home and fashed ahead to join her. "Hi!"

"Oh. It's you."

"I'm Delta."

The girl gave her a slight frown. "Vidhut."

"Like the inventor? Cool!"

"She invented floating drone mines to kill hundrds. Less cool"

"That can't be right. I don't think she made weapons."

"Not many people do."

"Oh."

Had she insulted her? She hadn't started cursing or calling her nmes at least.

"Well, it's still a pretty name. Do you play Sparkshot?"

"Haven't got time for that."

"But it's fun! Everyone should play Sparkshot!"

"No thank you. I have work to do."

"Like homework?"

Delta hoped she didn't have her teacher when she was older.

"No; like get money work."

"Oh. But you can't do that all the time!"

"No. I need to eat and sleep and go to school as well." She stopped at the turn. "This is my street."

"I'm at the next one. You want to walk together tomorrow?"

Vidhut seemed to hesitate as though considering. "Sure. Why not? Seven thirty, don't be late."

"See you tomorrow!" Delta called as she set off down her street.

Her house was open when she got there and her mummy in the kitchen, preparing dinner.

"There's my- Oh, what in Panem have you been doing? You're covered in dirt!"

"I-" Delta started, and then stopped. "I fell over."

"Did you hurt yourself?"

"No mummy."

"Well, let's get you out of those dirty things so you're not getting mud everywhere. How was school?"

"It was… good."

"Did anything happen today?"

Delta thought of the boys, the word 'freak' written on her desk, how they had even called her mummy a freak.

"I think I made a new friend."


	4. District Four

**Author's Note**

I do not own the Hunger Games.

CHAPTER WARNING: Swearing

* * *

_The day of the Reaping for the Ninety Third Hunger Games._

'_The Capitol needs workers,_' screamed the billboards. '_Do your duty._'

Pah.

All the Capitol did was demand and demand and demand.

Ilenia shifted her weight from foot to foot and glared at the Capitol workers sat in front of the Town Square, registering teenagers for the reaping. Was this their only job, she wondered? Registering teenagers so they could send them to their death? Or did they go back to the Capitol and do something useful there? They were always screaming about how they needed workers; it was why she had taken up a job at the toystore before she was forced onto the workroll and shoved into working aboard one of the smaller fishing boats or the many small processing factories along the sea edge like most kids her age.

Andoni tugged at her sleeve. "Ilenia?"

"Hm?"

"I'm scared."

He had turned twelve earlier this year, and this was his first reaping. Ilenia tried to remember her own first reaping, but she had been too angry and grieving to be angry back then. Of course, she was still angry and still felt the loss; she was just better at dealing with it these days. She found his hand and gave it a squeeze. "It's fine."

Twenty five years ago, they'd have had nothing to fear. Back then, Four had regularly produced strong Career tributes and had a steady string of Victors.

Then the first small rebellion had started, sabotage to one of the main processing factories. At least no one died in that attempt.

But that rebellion had morphed into one that destroyed several factories, and once it was put down, another one that involved several hundred people trying to vacate the District began. When that one had half-failed, half-succeeded, another had arisen. The rebels never seemed to understand that they were always beaten and the punishment for it was execution.

"Do you know if there's a Volunteer for the boys?"

Ilenia didn't. She was fairly sure there wasn't one for the girls; their top trainee had dropped out several weeks ago. But of course the named tribute was never under any pressure to Volunteer anyway, just given priority, and sometimes kids they simply went for it.

Ilenia wasn't sure why anyone would. The Hunger Games were just one more way the Capitol established and showed off their power and authority. Sure, sometimes kids came back, but they came back with wealth and positions given to them by the Capitol.

"I'm not sure."

Andoni slipped a finger into his mouth to chew. Ilenia smacked it away. "Don't do that."

He tucked his hands under his armpits instead, fidgeting next to her.

At last they were at the front of the line. Ilenia held out her ID and nudged him to do the same. "They'll need to prick your finger and scan your hand too. I'll meet you on the other side."

He nodded wordlessly and followed her lead. She stepped through into the Town Square and waited until he was through, stuffing his ID card back into his jacket. The Square was stuffed with teens, swirling and pushing their way past each other to their own corals. It wasn't big enough for the entire population of their sector, so those not within reaping age would be watching on the big screen outside or the temporary viewing screens set up in the main street. The reaping was mandatory viewing for anyone outside the seriously ill or dying. It would be a good time, Ilenia suddenly thought, for a rebel to make a demonstration. The entire District and the Capitol was watching.

She found Andoni's wrist and held it tight.

She took him up front, to the corral for the twelves, and pushed him under the barricade. "I'll meet you up by the fountain afterwards, okay?"

He nodded nervously.

"Don't worry. It's going to be fine."

Four still had regular volunteers after all, and Andoni was only twelve.

She doubled back to find the corral for the fifteens and ducked under the rope barricade. There were a few girls from her class here already and a handful of others she recognised from the Academy. Ilenia curled her fingers into fists. They were Games _fanatics_, those girls, Capitol fangirls, in love with the idea of becoming a Victor so they could be handed wealth and status like a good little puppy dog.

At last, teenagers stopped filtering into the Square. Two large, temporarily erected screens either side of the stage displayed the other two District squares and the teenagers gathered there.

Their escort, Luperca St. James stalked out onto stage. She was wearing some poofy blue atrocity, too tight around her ample bosom and puffing out at the waist into a half-lace, half-netting thing. Her face was painted up with silver and blue glitter, which Ilenia presumed was some attempt to make it sparkle like the sea.

"Hello District Four! What a lovely day it is here! It's so good to see you again!"

She was met by a mixture of cheering, stony faces, and boos and jeers, particularly from the screen on the left, the Third Sector. Several of the older, bolder teens even began to throw shit at the cameras and screen. What did they think they were demonstrating, Ilenia wondered? Ways to get yourself killed? The Peacekeepers there fired several shots into the air and more blanks into the crowd. Ilenia wondered how many innocents they hit and injured. Bastards, all of them.

"I'm Luperca St. James, all the way from the Capitol for the reaping for the Ninety Third Hunger Games!"

Ilenia rolled her eyes. _Get on with it already._

"But before we can do that, our gracious leaders at the Capitol have sent a special video for you to watch! Isn't that exciting?"

_Not really._ It was the same video every year, fucking rebels fucking shit up, and then the Hunger Games being established to scare everyone into submission. _Bastards_, all of them.

"Here we are!"

Luperca scurried off to the side of the stage as the video began to play on the three screens, voiceover booming from the speakers around them. Ilenia narrowed her eyes at the destruction and devastation. What was the Capitol doing in all of this, she wondered? They were meant to be protecting them!

Bastards, all of them.

At last the video was over and Luperca trotted back onto stage. "Wasn't that exciting boys and girls?"  
Fuck's sake.

How old did she think they were?

"Now, shall we see who will have the honour of representing District Four in the Ninety Third annual Hunger Games?"

There was a scattered round of applause, and one boy somewhere behind her shouted 'let's do this!'

"We'll start with the boys for this year shall we?"

The boys.

_Andoni._

Ilenia couldn't see him in the crowd, but she knew he was there. Her heart thump-thump-thumped in her chest.

He was only twelve.

They weren't the best off in the District, but they weren't as dirt poor as some. They had never needed to sign up for tesserae. He had one slip in that bowl; she had four.

Luperca stalked over to the bowl for the boys and plunged her hand into the slips, swirling it around tauntingly.

Ilenia nudged one of the girls she recognised from the Academy. "Are there chosen Volunteers this year?"

The girl shrugged. "Not for the girls. Want to give it a try?"

Ilenia scowled. She would fuck things up in the Games if she entered. Why should she play their games by their rules?

At last Luperca pulled out a slip, walking back to the microphone before unfolding it. "District Four, your male tribute for the Ninety Third Hunger Games is Andoni Costello!"

No.

No.

No.

Not Andoni.

Not him.

Not him too.

She saw him duck out under the barricade, looking lost and confused.

No.

No.

No.

What did she do?

She couldn't volunteer: he was a boy and she was a girl. She could volunteer to go in with him - that happened sometimes and she could look after him - but she might still have to have him die in her arms and what did she do what did she do what did she do bastards all of them not him too not him too.

Did they have a volunteer?

She couldn't breathe; she couldn't hear.

What did she do?

Did they have a volunteer?

Did she volunteer for the girls when the time came? There wasn't a volunteer for the girls; she'd get the spot.

What did she do?

She pushed her way towards the aisle as though dreaming, reaching for the barricade and thinking twice about it as one of the Peacekeepers in the aisle raised his gun.

_Andoni_.

No.

No.

No.

There had only been one twelve year old Victor in all Ninety Two years.

"Here we are. Now then, do we have any Volunteers for Andoni's place?"

Did they have a volunteer?

One.

Two.

Three.

Her heart pounded in her ears.

Bastards, all of them.

She'd volunteer; she'd take care of him; she wouldn't let them take him too; _not him too-_

"I volunteer!"

Ilenia whirled and a tall, lanky boy appeared from the seventeens, raising his hand high. She recognised him, although she didn't know his name. She wished she did. Her knees shook. She wanted to collapse, but she had to stand strong.

The boy jogged over to the stage and up the steps, reaching out to clasp Andoni's arm and shake his hand before sending him off.

They had a volunteer.

They had a volunteer.

They had a volunteer.

He was safe.

_He was safe._

_He was __safe__._

She ducked out from under the barricade regardless of the Peacekeeper as Andoni came down the steps and held her arms out. He bolted over to her and she wrapped him up in her arms, burying her face in his hair.

They had a volunteer.

He was safe.

She wasn't losing him too.

Bastards, all of them.

Except Marcelo Starr, who was introducing himself on stage.

That boy was a hero.

Because of him, she wasn't losing Andoni.

She bit back her tears, sucking in a deep breath. Her eyes were stinging and burning, but she was not going to cry. Not here, not now.

On stage, Luperca was calling up the female tribute, one of the fifteen year olds from her own corral, tall and wiry. Ilenia missed her name and didn't really care anyway.

She had Andoni; thanks to Marcelo Starr those bastards weren't taking him away from her.

She wasn't losing him too.

There were no volunteers from the girls (she could have taken the slot, if she'd wanted to, if she'd needed to).

"District Four, your tributes for the Ninety Third Hunger Games! Marcelo Starr and Isla Cerulean!"

The two shook hands and another mixed round of applause and boos went round. One kid at the front lobbed something at Luperca and a Peacekeeper fired a blank round at him point blank. The two tributes were quickly led away into the Town Hall. Someone at the back of the Square shouted 'fuck the Capitol!' as the doors were closed.

_Fuck the Capitol._

What had it ever done for them?

"Please leave the Square in an orderly fashion," dithered Mayor Franklin, having taken the microphone.

"Capitol-loving bastard!" shouted that same boy from the back of the square.

Another round was fired off.

Ilenia pulled Andoni along with her down the aisle, half afraid someone might suddenly charge forwards and snatch him away from her, that this might be a mistake, that he might still be sent into the Games-

And then they were out the Square and she was still pulling him forwards, onwards, away. She needed as much distance between them and the bastards as possible. Andoni stumbled and staggered, clutching at her arm to keep himself on his feet as she marched him onwards. Some boy from her class made some attempt to approach her, asking something irrelevant, but she only shook her head and kept moving. They needed to be away; they needed to be _away_.

"Ilenia?" Andoni asked, struggling to keep up. He was still shaking from the shock of the reaping, his knees trembling. "Ilenia, it's alright."

"It's not alright," she hissed out.

_Nothing was alright._

Bastards, all of them.

"Can you at least slow down a little? I can't keep up."

She grunted, but she did slow down, keeping a tight grip on his wrist.

_Nothing__ was alright._

They were going to take him too; they were going to drag him off to play their Games and be butchered in the Games-

It was only when they reached the Old Sea Road that she allowed herself to slow down and _breathe_. They were _away_ enough; no one was going to take him; no one was going to hurt him.

One day, she was going to make those fuckers pay.

They sat up there, in their ivory towers, and demanded and demanded and demanded, and in return they were _meant_ to be looking after them, but what did they actually do? Let rebellions start, and then shoot anyone and anything that moved.

Bastards, all of them.

She hesitated as they approached the bakery. Sugar was good for shock, or so they taught at the Academy. She tugged Andoni towards the door. "Here; what do you want?"

"I don't-"

He hated chocolate, so that was out. Strawberry then, or treacle, or a box of the sticky sugar buns. That would be good actually, because then they could share.

"Andoni, darling!" exclaimed Ms Harren, the baker's wife. "That was a narrow miss! Are you alright sweetheart?"

"I'm fine," Andoni replied.

Why was it that he was managing to keep it together and she wasn't? She wasn't even the one reaped!

"Oh, but just think! We could have had our very own little local Victor!"

Not likely.

There had only ever been one twelve year old Victor in all the previous ninety two Hunger Games, and there were some that argued even that had been a fluke.

"It's alright."

It wasn't alright.

"I'm happy for Marcelo. I hope he wins."

"Yeah," Ilenia ground out. "Me too."

_Nothing was alright._

She jabbed a hand at the sweet sugar buns. "How 'bout these?"

"Sure!"

"We'll get ten."

While Ms Harren counted them out she fumbled for her coin purse, counting out five coins. Her job didn't pay much – most didn't – but she had a little, and a little more saved up. She could afford this. She slid them over the counter, and Ms Harren handed her the box.

"Now, off you go." She smiled down at Andoni. "Just think, in six years, that might be you volunteering up on stage!"

It better not be.

"Thanks," Ilenia muttered, pushing Andoni out the door ahead of her.

Once they were back on the street she pulled the box open and held it out to him. "Here."

"Are you sure?"

"Take as many as you want."

He took two and she took one, awkwardly holding the box against her as she munched on it. There were more Peacekeepers on the street than usual, she noticed, and instinctively reached out to draw Andoni a little closer. They said they were here to protect them but when did they actually do their job? There were even patrols going round the housing estates.

Their house was locked, and she handed the bun box to Andoni to fumble for her keys. He took another bun as he waited for her to slot the keys into the lock.

She could hear their father's voice when she swung the door open, which meant he was home. Why was the door locked then? Who was he talking to?

"Who's that?" Andoni asked through a mouthful of bun, putting the box down on the cluttered hallway table.

"Not sure."

The voices were coming from the sitting room, light creeping out under the door. Ilenia edged a little closer, listening in.

"-children."

"My children are better off without getting involved in this mess of yours."

"They've already lost their mother haven't they? And you came so close to losing your son."

It was the man from down the street, Ilenia figured, the big old guy.

"Don't you want to protect them from that?"

"I am protecting them from that. Please, Mr Tames, just leave."

Oh, was that his name? Ilenia made a note of it, so she knew who to watch and who to hate.

"Think about it Mr Costello. You don't want to lose any more of your family."

Anger burnt in her chest, so hot she wanted to scream. Her shoulders shook. _Lose any more of your family,_ he said, as though it wasn't his fault her mother was dead in the first place!

"Leave, Mr Tames."

"If you like."

Ilenia seized Andoni's arm and shoved him behind her into the kitchen.

"Oof- hey!"

She'd nearly lost him once today; it wasn't going to happen again.

Not on her watch.

The sitting room door clicked open and Mr Tames stepped out. He gave them a half smile – all fake, pretended niceties – and reached for the front door. "Lucky escape you had there lad. Mebe you ought to think about making a stand to make sure it dain't happen again."

Ilenia narrowed her eyes and wondered how much the Peacekeepers would give her if she turned in his name.

Andoni held his chin high. "Please leave our house mister."

Mr Tames gave them another smile, opened the door, and vanished out onto the street.

Bastard.

Ilenia let out a breath, leaning heavily against the doorframe. Their father appeared in the sitting room doorway. "There's my babies! Oh, Andoni…"

"I'm fine. It's fine."

It _wasn't_ fine.

_Nothing_ was fine.

Their father pulled them into a tight hug. "I was so worried about you."

"Then maybe you shouldn't go round having tea parties with rebels!" Ilenia snapped, shoving him away. "They probably did it deliberately, reaped him, because _you_-"

Her voice shook.

She bit back tears.

_Don't cry, don't cry, don't cry._

"Ilenia-"

"Don't. Just- don't."

She turned and swept upstairs to her bedroom, closing the door behind her. It was only then that she let herself cry, collapsing onto her bed and drawing her arms up over her head. She screamed into her elbows. Her shoulders shook. She drew her knees up to her chest and curled her fingers into her dark hair.

It wasn't fair.

First mom, and now nearly Andoni.

Were they trying to take everything away from her?

Bastards, all of them.

Eventually the tears passed, and she rolled onto her back, glaring at the ceiling. Something clicked deep inside her. She could have taken that slot, if she'd wanted it. She could prove a point or two to those bastards. They were supposed to be protecting them, and what were they doing instead?

Her father called her down for supper a few hours later, after she had spent the past few hours running through workout routines from the Academy. They ate in an uncomfortable silence, watching the reaping recaps play on TV. They even showed a brief shot of the moment Andoni ran down the steps and into her arms, describing it as an 'emotional moment from District Four.' Ilenia shuddered looking at the older, stronger tributes Andoni would have been entering the arena with if it wasn't for Marcelo Starr. The pair from District One tossed their hair and giggled from the camera; the boy from Two flexed his muscles, grinning ominously. Capitol-loving Games fanatic. She hated him, she hated everything about him.

Andoni bumped her with his knee under the table. "You alright?"

"I'm not the one who should be asked that question."

It was him that had been reaped; him who would have been entering the arena with those older, stronger tributes – although she'd have taken the girl's place, in a heartbeat, and there wouldn't have been any competition.

But she had three years yet.

She was going to make those bastards pay.

They finished supper and began to wash their pots. She shot the occasional sideways glance at Andoni as he busied himself, still here where he belonged.

Those bastards were going to take him away.

He was only twelve!

She sent him off to shower first and get the first shot at hot water. Her father sighed. "Ilenia, can we talk?"

"About what?"

"Whatever this is. I don't know what's going on with you-"

"He would have been killed!"

"He's here; he's safe!"

"Would you have said yes? To Mr Tames?"

"You know I don't get involved in rebel activity."

"Then why do they keep coming asking? Why do you tell them things? Let them sit down for drinks?"

"It's more complicated than-"

"They killed her! And we could have lost Andoni too; did you never think about that?"

"Ilenia-!"

She couldn't do this.

She stormed upstairs and waited in her bedroom until Andoni was finished and she could shower. The hot water stung her face and she scrubbed her eyes until they stung. She roughly dried herself off and returned to her room to flop into her bed.

She had a little money saved up from her job, she could afford the Academy for a while.

She was going to make those bastards pay.

There was a knock at her door.

"Fuck off."

"Sorry," Andoni's whisper came.

"Oh, sorry. Thought you were dad. Come in."

He did so, closing the door behind him and taking the three steps across the room to climb into bed next to her. She wrapped her arm around his waist. "What you want?"

He shrugged. "You seemed… angry early."

"I was."

_She still was._

"I'm sorry."

"Wasn't anything you did."

"Oh." He wrapped his fingers tight around hers and pressed himself closer to her. She rested her chin on his head and closed her eyes. They lay there like that until she felt him begin to relax. First mom, and now nearly him.

Bastards, all of them.

She was going to show those fucking bastards.

She was going to make them all pay.


	5. District Five

**Author's Note**

I do not own the Hunger Games.

* * *

"It's all gone," Wendy whispered, looking at the burnt remains of their former home. The houses on either side were blackened and crumbling, the windows cracked by the enormous heat, but theirs was gone.

Gone.

"How could this happen?" asked Skyler in a very small voice.

"Well, one small spark-"

"We have absolutely nothing," said Mercury, picking his way through the debris.

"Children, children! I can assure you you have nothing to worry about!"

"Uh huh," mumbled Amira, shifting Soleil against her hip and looking across her gathered siblings, habitually running a head count.

"Now, do come along! Until I can find out whether you have a next of kin guardian, you will be staying at the District Five Community Home!"

"Yay," said Mercury dryly.

"Don't be like that Quinn!"

"Mercury."

"I'm sure everything will be sorted out posthaste." He smiled at them. "Posthaste means-"

"We know what posthaste means."

"Ah. Good. Come along then; come along. Quickly now!"

Venus herded Genera and Quinn ahead of herself, steering them towards the car whilst balancing Cosmo against her hip.

"Burn," Genera said sadly.

"Yeah Genera," Blaine agreed. "Burn."

The children piled into the car. It wasn't really big enough for all of them, and they were all squished up and sat on top of each other. Aimee held Breeze tight, biting back her tears. She wanted to cry, but Amira and Blaine and Wendy looked so strong and confident. Mr. Pollux climbed into the driver's star. "Now, say goodbye to your home children."

Many of the children were unable to look back at their old home, now ashes and dust and rubble. Aimee, Jupiter, Skyler and Breeze did look back.

"Bye house," said Aimee.

"Bye house," said Jupiter.

"Bye house," said Skyler.

"Buh ho," shrieked Breeze.

* * *

They arrived at the Community Home in a whirlwind of chaos and tears.

"Don't wanna!" Genera was shouting.

"No!" shouted Soleil.

"Gack!" Cosmo shouted in agreement.

"No no no!" Breeze screamed, determined not to be outdone.

"But why do we have to go here?" Quinn whined.

"Now Jupiter."

"Quinn," Amira corrected tiredly, but Mr Pollux didn't seem to hear.

"The Community Home will provide a nice warm home for you children. Why, in time, you might even come to see it as your home."

"Never!" screamed Genera.

"Why can't we go home with you?" asked Skyler. "You know us."

"Oh Blaine," he sighed.

"Skyler," he said.

"Eleanor and I would have loved to adopt you. But, well, unfortunately, there are rather a lot of you, and we simply don't have anywhere near enough room for all you. You are to stay here while I check up on whether you have any surviving family members."

"We understand Mr Pollux," Amira said. "My siblings and I are simply distraught at the situation."

"Oh Wendy," he said, reaping a hand on her shoulder.

"Amira," she said.

"Don't worry. Everything is perfectly under control."

No, she thought as she drew in a deep breath, nothing was under control. Not the situation, not their lives, not even her younger siblings, who she was supposed to be caring for but who were currently running riot on the street around her.

"I hope you're right," she said finally.

"Of course I'm right. Now, I have many things back at the the office I need to shift out, so why don't you and your siblings see yourselves inside?"

Amira sighed heavily, shifting Soleil against her. "Yes Mr Pollux."

Mr Pollux returned to his car and climbed inside. "Goodbye children! Be sure to behave! I'll see you tomorrow!"

"Goodbye Mr Pollux," said Aimee.

"Goodbye Mr Pollux," said Jupiter.

"Goodbye Mr Pollux," said Quinn.

"Pah," said Breeze.

The siblings watched the car pull away. Amira turned back towards the Community Home. It was grey, like all buildings in Five, blackened by soot and ash, with narrow, high slatted windows.

"Well," Blaine said, "I guess we better go inside."

He and Amira gathered up their younger siblings. Wendy held Genera and Quinn's hands; the triplets held hands while Venus carried Quinn; and Skyler took Aimee's hands while she carried Breeze. Then the siblings slowly made their way up the steps of the Community Hall.


	6. District Six

**Author's Note**

I do not own the Hunger Games.

CHAPTER WARNING: All of it. Just all of it. Child abuse, paedophilia, murder.

* * *

There were two of them, both girls. One was blonde, tall for her age and willowy, with pale, unblemished skin. They didn't make them like that often in Six.

The other was black haired and sallow skinned, though she shared the large, pale eyes. Both wore knee length dresses, pink for the blonde and blue for the black haired one, worn and old, but neat and well presented.

They looked like they'd walked straight from the front page of a kid's magazine – or his wet dream.

Axel hummed softly, that low, warning hum he gave his girls. "Howdy lil' ladies! Are you lost?"

The blonde smiled wiely. She looked like an angel with her curls and large eyes.

He needed her.

He had to have her.

"No sir!"

"We're just where we need to be."

"Thank you for your concern."

"Oh, I was just worried. Two little ladies like you shouldn't be wandering about all by yourselves."

They giggled.

"Say, there's a bitch around this here alley gave birth a few days ago. Now, I don't know if you know of any little girls that might want to see any puppies."

The blonde bounced on her heels. "Oh! Us! Can we really see the puppies?"

"Of course you can! This way, this way. Come, see! They're just back here!"

The two followed him trustingly to the back of the alley, picking their way past the trash and scattered filth.

The blonde frowned slightly.

"I don't see any puppies."

Axel drew his shrt knife, tracing his thumb over the blade. "No."

"But I thought we were going to see puppies!""

She was significantly less attreactive when she whined like that.

"There are no puppies. Now you two are going to be nice and quiet." He jabbed the knife at them. The blonde took a step back, but the brunette one, remained steadfast, her expression stony.

"Is that a knife?"

"Why yes, it is. And it's very sharp, and can cut you, so you're not going to scream, because if you do, it will." He leered down at them. "Capiche?"

The blonde's lower lip trembled. "Why do you have a knife?"

"For cutting you with if you misbehave." He took a step towards the blonde, reaching out towards her. She shuffled back towards the wall, her pale blue eyes wide.

"Please don't hurt me mister!"

He gripped her shoulder, brushing the knife against her neck before beginning to cut into her patchwork dress.. He smiled over at the brunette. "I'll get you next babydoll." He tore the dress at the front.

The next thing he knew he was on the ground, splayed out amongst the filth and garbage.

The two girls were stood over him, the blonde's dress gaping open at the front.

"You're a bad man," said the blonde.

"You- You- What- How-"

"We don't like that." The brunette reached down and picked up his knife, dropped or thrown earlier.

She turned it over in her hand. He scrabbled backwards,, struggling to stand. His legs were trembling. What had she done, cracked him round the head? Well, he'd teach them some submission.

He gave a roar and leapt at them. They stepped to either side and he crashed to the ground again.

"We don't like bad men," said the brunette, stepping forwards to drive the knife deep into his shoulder.

Axel roared, rearing back and flailing at her, but she had already moved and now the blonde had the knife, plunging it into his other shoulder.

"What are you?" he rasped, scrambling back and away.

They smiled, twin expressions mirrored across their faces.

"We are your penance," they said as one.

"You- You're demons."

The brunette was in front of him again, holding the knife. She drove it deep into his throat and stepped back, leaving it there. Axel choked for air, spluttering up red foam.

"Go to Hell," said the brunette.

The blonde smiled. "There might be puppies there."

He grasped at the knife. "You'll be there."


	7. District Seven

I do not own the Hunger Games.

CHAPTER WARNING: Mention of death.

* * *

The bodies were still hanging, swaying slightly in the breeze and beginning to rot in the midday sun.

They would be there for another week, decaying where all could see, before their bodies were finally removed to be buried in a ditch. Criminals like them would be given no graves.

"Lily? Why are them men swinging?"

Lily glanced up at the corpses, Seven's latest batch of would be rebels. They had committed the crime of vandilising the Town Hall and scribbling anti Capitol graffiti across government buildings. Their sentence had been death by hanging. There was no mercy for rebels.

"They're dead Lea," she replied. Of course, being only five, Lea had little idea of death, but she needed to learn about it sooner or later.

"Are they having fun?"

"Of course not," Marigold snapped. "They died a terrible death and were left there to rot."

Lea and Holly gazed at her for a moment, absorbing this information.

"What's death mean?" asked Holly.

"Means the Hunger Games," said Rosen, who had a decent grasp on the concept.

"It means…" Lily flailed for a moment, searching for an answer. How had she explained this to Poppy and Rosen? _Had_ she explained this to Poppy and Rosen? Maybe their mom had done that part.

"It's like going to sleep, except you never wake up."

"Oh," said Lea.

"Can't we wake them up?" asked Holly.

Lily was pretty sure they weren't getting this concept.

Yasmin rolled her eyes. "They're not breathing no more ijit."

"And that's bad?"

"Of course that's bad!" Tulip said.

"Oh," said Holly.

"Look, it just means those men are going to stay there for a bit Lea. Next week they'll hopefully cut 'em down to bury 'em."

"Yes Lily."

They definitely didn't get it.

* * *

After a long walk, they arrived in the cluster of shops and houses of their little outpost. It was one street for the shops and a few scattered more for the civilians, closer together than their own tiny cabin. Once every two weeks, when Lily and Marigold's schedule matched up and the tesserae rations were due, the siblings made the long treck there for supplies. The Flower Sisters, people called them, even though plenty of people in Seven were named after flowers and also one of them was a boy so that nickname had become false eight years ago.

The siblings first went up to the Town Hall, where Lily, Marigold, and Yasmin could collect their tesserae rations. They passed their IDs over the desk to the Peacekeeper there.

"Why aren't you two working at your age? The Capitol needs workers."

"Please sir, it's our day off," Lily replied.

He grunted, shoving the IDs under the scanner. "I still say it was a mistake to increase those."

The scanner blipped blue and pinged. He shoved them the IDs back and they backed away into the waiting area to wait. There were a few other anxious looking teens doing the same. Many looked thin, with hollow cheeks, though there was one tall boy with broad shoulders and thick limbs. One by one, each of them was brought their supplies and filtered out, until at last it was their turn. The workers brought out the three large sacks of grain and oil, dumping them on the dusty floor, and each of the girls took one.

"Thank you ma'am. Thank you sirs."

They dragged the sacks outside, where they divided things up better into their carryalls. Soon enough the littlie twins would be big enough to come with them, which would give them another pair of arms and legs to help carry, but for today they were home with their mom and the new baby.

Not, Lily lamented, that their family had needed another baby.

Their mom paid little enough attention to her older children as it was. It was as though once they got past Holly and Azalea's age, they stopped being 'cute' and 'fun' and she needed a replacement.

Either that, or she was really determined to produce offspring for the Capitol.

Either way, Lily was pretty sure she was never having kids. She'd already done her fair share of child rearing.

"Usual stops?" Marigold asked.

"Meet you at the old tree," Lily agreed.

The nine of them filtered off into four groups: Marigold, Poppy, and Holly for the Butchers' and today the toystore; Yasmin, Tulip and Dahlia for the Greengrocers; and Lily, Rosen, and Lea for the fleamarket.

At the Butchers', Marigold, Poppy and Holly picked up a small ham and a limited amount of mince before moving on to the toystore. Next week was Lea's sixth birthday, and they wanted to buy her a doll.

At the Greengrocers, Yasmin and the twins selected a small amount of fruit and vegetables. It was hard, feeding so many on their limited budget, but they made do with what they had.

At the Fleamarket, Lily, Rosen, and Lea bought secondhand dresses for Holly and Lea, who were growing out of some of theirs and a new shirt and shoes for Rosen, who seemed to make it his mission to wear holes in all his clothing. While they passed their clothing down, and indeed, much of what Sorrel and Clover wore now had once been Lily or Marigold's ten years ago, with so many children clothes wore thin or were damage beyond repair, meaning they still needed new things occasionally.

At last they had all the supplies they needed, and one by one, each of the small trios headed out to the Old Tree a short way outside the Outpost to wait. Marigold's group was first, followed by Yasmin, and lastly Lily, who was wrestling with Lea and Rosen. She was dreading having to start bringing the littlie twins with her, but it was inevitable. Their mom would begin insisting soon enough.

"I wanted to see the doggie," Lea was whining, referring to the large Peacekeeper's dog they had passed a few minutes earlier.

"No, you can't-"

"Can't we stop by the park for a bit?" Rosen demanded, referring to the muddy field with the old rotting rope swings and lonely wooden slide at the outpost. "You never let us anymore!"

"That's because we don't have time!"

_And,_ Lily added, _because with Holly and Lea added to the fray, she couldn't manage them all._

"You can play in the field back home!"

"But I want to play here!"

"Then you'll be tired for the walk home, and it'll be dark before we get there! Come on!"

"No!"

"Then I'll leave you here!"

"Fine!"

"Fine!"

"_Fine_!"

It took her getting barely a hundred yards ahead before he started hurrying to catch up, scowling and red faced.

At last, they were all together again. Lily ran a quick headcount and nodded. "Come on. Let's get going."

They weren't the only ones on the road. She could see a handful of others, teenagers like them doing the same thing: collecting tesserae rations. She and Marigold were the only ones trying to wrangle seven kids though. Often they had discussed doing this by halves and having only one of them go at a time, but most likely their mom would still insist they took all the little ones, and even with Tulip and Dahlia being a big help they couldn't do that to each other.

All together it was then, pain in the ass as it was.

Poppy, Rosen, Holly and Azalea ran ahead, off to play tag despite their carryalls. A few of the other smaller children on the road, siblings of those older than twelve like theirs, quickly joined in.

Halfway outside the outpost, the corpses were still swaying in the breeze and the air smelled like rot and decay.


	8. District Eight

I do not own the Hunger Games.

This was one of the first chapters I wrote and one of my favourites, so enjoy.

CHAPTER WARNING: Some slight misgendering.

* * *

Another year, another two dead tributes.

Nothing ever changed.

None of her children had been reaped, thank the lucky stars, and all three had grown into adulthood with children and now grandchildren of their own. Not all had been so lucky. Two families a year lost their children; two families a year were torn apart by grief.

And now, another two families had watched their children get cut down in the bloodbath, one having her head bashed in, the other his throat sliced open.

And for another year, District Eight remained without another Victor.

It had been that was for twenty years.

Agnes Thredder had been a much younger woman back then, her grandchildren not even old enough for the reaping, and now four of them had children of their own.

"That's going to be me one day," said little five year old Paisley, the eldest of her great grandchildren, looking at a still image from the bloodbath of their male tribute's death being displayed on one of the large public news screens.

"Now why would you go and say something like that?" scolded Agnes.

"Because it's true."

Agnes tugged her gently away from the screen. "Don't go saying such things lovie."

* * *

They stopped by the bakery to buy bread and a small cake for Pollyanna, who was eighteen this year and by next year would be well out of reaping age. Paisley and Molly stood on their tiptoes and peered eagerly at the cakes in the displays, while Camara sat in her pushchair and shook her doll. One of Mr Sateen's young sons was helping behind the counter, not even tall enough to see over it.

"I see you're putting him to good use!"

Ms Sateen – the elder – patted the boy on the head. "Start 'em early, that's what I did with my boys. And he'll be starting school next year."

"So will the girls."

"Ah, they should be in the same class then." Ms Sateen smiled down at the two girls as they peeked hopefully at the buns. Molly waved up at her, but Paisley flinched and took a step back, covering her eyes with her hands.

"Paisley, what in Panem are you doing?"

"Don't like!"

"It's only Ms Sateen! You know her!"

Paisley let out an ear-piercing shriek and bolted for the door. Mr Sateen lunged out from behind the counter to catch her collar, pulling her to a halt. "Woah, woah! Steady on there little lady!"

Paisley continued to wail, drawing her arms up over her head. Agnes sighed. "Oh, I'm sorry. I just don't know what's gotten into her."

Mr Sateen steered her back to the pushchair. She hunched over it, as though trying to shield her sister.

"Kids will be kids."

Agnes packed their purchases away under the chair and called for the two girls to follow her from the shop. Once Mary's younger brother Erik and Angora's first daughter Elisa were old enough to need separating from their mothers while they worked, she would be minding all five of them. Then again, Paisley and Molly would soon enough be old for school.

Nothing ever changed.

Paisley seemed to calm down once they were away from the bakery, though her little face was still red from tears and anger.

"Now what was all that about?" Agnes tried asking.

Paisley only shook her head. "Didn't like. Was scary."

"But it was only Ms Sateen!"

"Scary."

They moved on to Singer's Butchers. Poor Robert Singer had died of his broken heart two years ago now, but his children had somehow managed to hold onto the shop despite the best efforts of certain people, and it remained the best in the area.

"Oh, good morning Meredith dear."

Meredith smiled back. She wasn't so much of a pretty girl, her skin was too sallow and her eyes too close, but she was kind hearted and sweet.

"Good morning Mrs Thredder. The usual for today?"

"If you would my love."

Paisley and Molly hurried over to chatter with the small girl laid on the floor by the counter, scribbling in a colouring book.

"How are you?"

"Oh, I'm well thank you dear. How are you?"

"Pretty good. Dennis is finally sleeping through the night." She smiled at the boy, who Agnes could just about see in the playpen behind the counter. Why the pair had taken him in, she would never understand. There were orphanages for that kind of thing. The Singers weren't even out of reaping age, barely older than Joseph's own Tafetta, and yet they had taken in four children.

Reese appeared from the back, today wearing a plaid shirt and matching skirt.

"Oh, good morning Reese dear. Are you a boy or a girl today?"

"I'm still neither."

"Of course you are lovie."

"Reese, can you get the mince?"

"Sure."

Meredith wrapped the pork up in newspaper and set it down on the counter. "That'll be eighteen gold dollars and a silver."

Agnes pulled out her purse to count the notes. "You know, I went into Polken's a few weeks ago."

"Yeah, you told us."

"And his shop was so much cheaper!"

"Yeah, his are."

"But he swindled me on the weight you know."

"He does that."

"And the quality!" Agnes shook her head. "I didn't know if we were eating beef or cat!"

Meredith shrugged. "Ezra Polken's a conman. If you want somewhere cheaper than ours, you could try Meenan's down on thirtieth. Their quality still isn't as good though."

"Oh, no dear, that's a bit far these days!"

Meredith smiled. "I guess you're stuck with us then."

"Oh no," muttered Reese, tying off the bag of mince. "What a shame."

"Reese!"

Agnes passed the notes over the counter. Meredith counted through them and opened the drawer to sort her change as Reese brought the mince back to the counter. Agnes took the meat to pack it under the pushchair.

"Here's your change."

"Thank you dear." Agnes packed it away in her purse and looked over to the three girls chattering over the colouring book, where the Singers' young girl – Claire, was it? – was showing Molly and Paisley her art.

"Come along girls."

"Have a good day Mrs Thredder."

"And you lovie."

Paisley hurried to get the door. As it closed behind them, Reese muttered, "every single time."

"Reese!" Meredith scolded.

From there, they continued on down to Calico Sewing Supplies, as she was out of black thread. Molly and Paisley hurried around the store, peeking into every basket and pulling down a ball of wool to throw at each other. Agnes took it from Molly and set it back on the shelf. "We don't do that."

Molly pouted. Paisley glared at the ball of wool. "No one's going to use it anyways."

"Of course they are honey. Someone will come to buy it and make a jumper like yours."

"No they won't," Paisley said, and then stuck her thumb in her mouth and wandered over to watch over Camara.

Agnes shook her head as she returned to Syana at the counter. "I just don't know what's gotten into that girl recently."

"Oh, they all think they're big at that age, don't they?"

"I'm never going to get big," Paisley called.

"Everyone gets big sweetheart."

"Not me."

"She saw a clip from the Games on the news," Agnes explained. "She thinks she's going to be Reaped."

"Ah. Well, don't we all know that fear?"

Agnes sighed. "We do indeed."

Nothing ever changed.


	9. District Nine

**Author's Note**

I do not own the Hunger Games.

* * *

"Can you see him?"

"It's so dark I can't see anything!"

Aiolin swept the torchlight across the grass in front of her. It looked grey and bare.

"Where could he be?"

"He can't have got that far!"

"I don't see him!"

Aiolin swung the torch in another wide arc as she crossed the front yard, picking out Brycen's dark shadow down the side of the house. Something caught under her foot, digging deep into her sole. She yelped and grunted, wrenching her foot away and clamping her hands around it. Brycen rushed towards her.

"Aiolin? You alright?"

"Stood on something," she grunted. Her hands came away from her foot wet and sticky with blood. She sucked her index fingers clean as she reached with her left hand down to feel through the grass. She found something cold and hard, wrapping her fingers around it and bringing it up to hold it under the torch. One of Marley's toy trains, the big one with the tall funnels and mismatched wheels from where she'd had to repair them. The funnels were now bent slightly, scarlet with blood.

She held it out for Brycen. He took it, muttered a curse. "He's gotta be out here somewhere. Marley!"

No answering call came.

Brycen cursed again.

"Mum says you mustn't say those words," Aiolin said.

"Mum can get fucked. Marley!"

Nothing.

Nothing but the echoing, empty silence and the muffled sound of radios and televisions from those that could afford them in surrounding houses.

Aiolin shuffled over to the gate and shone the torch out up and down the lane. Her heart jumped as she picked out a figure at the end, and then she saw it was far, far too tall to be Marley. Aiolin unlatched the gate and pushed it open, stepping out.

"Where are you going?"

"Excuse me?" she called, hurrying down the lane. "Excuse me, ma'am?"

It was one of the ladies from a few ways over, she saw, the one who got married the other month.

"Can I help you?"

"Have you seen a little boy out here alone?"

"I'm afraid I haven't."

Brycen appeared behind her with the other torch, pulling the gate closed behind him. The last thing they needed was one of the others getting out.

"What does he look like?"

"'bout so high, dark hair," Brycen replied. "Aiolin, you remember what he was wearing?"

She shook his head. "His blue jacket, probably. And dark boots. Maybe carrying one of the other train toys, he's got three and that's only one."

The lady pressed her lips into a tight line and furrowed her brow. "There was a group of kids playing at the end of Tiller's way, but I didn't get a good look at any of them. How old is he?"

"Three."

"I don't think any were that young, sorry."

"I'll go take a look. Aiolingo put your boots on and tell Perce to mind the little ones."

"I'm fine like this-"

"But Perce needs to know what's going on. Thank you ma'am."

"I'll come help you look. What's his name?"

"Marley," Brycen replied, setting off at a jog towards the end of the lane. Aiolin turned and rushed back to the house, slipping inside. Percy stuck his head around the doorway from the main room. "You find him?"

She held up the toy train and shook his head. Percy went a funny shade of white.

"We'll find him, don't worry. We just need you to watch the little ones, okay? It'll be fine." She leant against the wall as she pulled her boots on and pulled the laces tight. Her hands were trembling.

"What happened to your foot?"

She glanced down at the blood now smeared across the floor where she had stepped. "Oh. I cut myself. It's fine."

"It's not fine; you're bleeding!"

"It's fine. Just- Just get the little ones into bed, okay? We'll be back soon." She pulled her jacket from the hook and opened the door. "With Marley."

* * *

She pulled her jacket on as she ran, buttoning it up with shaky fingers. Her foot was burning, aching. She resisted the urge to stop and rub at it. At the top of Tiller's way, she could see dark shadows milling about the small hill where kids liked to play. Her torch picked out something shiny at the edge of the road. She stopped to peer at it, and then reached down to pick it up. It was ice cold in her hands, spiky and vengeful.

She set off at a jog to the field, where a group of kids maybe a little younger than herself, Perce's age, were gathering about the lady, filtering from games to bundle together at the foot of the hill. Brycen was searching along the hedge with his torch, shining it through the darkness. Aiolin scurried over to join him. "Anything?"

He shook his head. "Nothing."

She held up her hand, displaying the small toy train. It was the little one, the one with the broken fender and snapped funnel.

Brycen blinked. "Where'd you get that?"

"Bottom of the lane."

"So he was here."

"Aye." She stuffed the train into her jacket pocket. "He can't have got far in the dark, surely?"

"He got this far."

Aiolin swung her torch beam around the field, picking out a few wispy trees and bushes and the old rope swing she had played on only a few years ago. "I'm gonna go talk to them."

"Yeah."

She jogged over to the group of kids. They were chattering and muttering.

"Ain't sin no'un," muttered a small girl.

"This is his sister," said the lady, nodding to her.

"We ain't sin no lil' boy," said one of the taller boys. He lived up here she knew, one of the houses here near the field.

"He were at the bottom of the lane," she said.

The boy scowled. "How'd you know?"

She pulled the train from her pocket.

"There were a little boy," said another of the boys, a blonde wearing faded blue dungarees.

"No there weren't!" snapped the girl.

"There were!" he snapped back. "I amember, acos he were cryin. But he weren't on his own; he were with a man."

"Yeah!" said one of the other boys suddenly. "Yeah, that's right!"

"Did you see what he looked like? Or what he was wearing?" Aiolin asked.

"Naw. Too dark. Just saw him and heard him all cryin an screamin."

"Which way'd he go?"

The boy pointed off up the way, towards the top. Aiolin shone her torch off up that way. The beam filtered off into the shadowy distance.

"Brycen!" she shouted.

He came hurrying over, shining his own torch in front of his feet. "What is it?"

"They reckon he went that way."

Brycen jogged back to the road, glancing up and down it either way before shining his torch up the way. "Marley!"

No answering call came.

"It might notta bin him!" Aiolin shouted after him. "He coulda gone that way!"

She jabbed a hand down the way, which led into the town centre.

Brycen ran his hand through his hair. "I'll take this way! You do town!"

"We'll help you look," said the eldest of the boys gathered, scuffing his shoe against the ground. "I'll let me ma know."

The other kids whispered and chattered to each other.

"Will go wi'you," muttered the girl.

"I'll go git my torch," said another of the older boys.

"Thanks," replied Aiolin.

* * *

She set off along Tiller's way, shouting and shining the torchbeams into the ditches, fences, hedges, and yards she passed. She fingered the toy train through the fabric of her jacket and kept a close watch for the third one. Her heart jumped every time she found a shine, and fell every time it was a beer bottle or broken glass.

She banged on Mary's door as she reached her house. She was slow to answer, her hair damp and loose around her face. "I can't come out now."

"Marley's gone wandering off. Can you come help me look?"

Mary stared at her for a moment and then vanished back into her hall, calling for her mum. She appeared from the sitting room, already in her nightgown and slippers.

"What d'you mean 'Marley's gone wandrin?'"

"He got out while we was busy, and now we can't find him. Reckon him mighta gone t'other way out t'the fields, but we dunno. Can Mary come help me?"

"We'll all come help you love. Just let me get my shoes on."

"Oh, thank you Mrs Sawson!"

"Jimmy, we need t'go out! Sarah, fetch the torches!"

"Yes mum!" came Sarah's reply from the next room. She appeared a few minutes later with a heavy duty field torch, one of the large wayfinding lanterns, and a smaller handtorch like Aiolin's. She passed them out, and the three of them filtered out as Mary's dad appeared and began to put on his jacket.

Some of the other kids had started banging on other neighbourhood doors for friends and acquaintances, who were coming out carrying torches and lanterns of their own. Aiolin could think of no reasons why Marley would wander into town; he hated it here, the crowds and people and shops. He preferred the fields, and the boys had said he had gone – or been taken – that way.

Still, they continued into the small, dusty town square, shining their torches about the shops and anywhere a small child might hide. Aiolin shone her torch into the toyshop and tried the door, but it was black and dark and locked tight.

"Would he have even made it this far?" asked Mary, shining her torch down one of the alleyways.

"I dunno. The boys from Tiller's way said he mighta bin with someone."

"With who?"

"Dunno; some guy."

"I'll let my mum know."

Before she could hurry off to do so, the Peacekeeper patrol arrived with their own high powered torches and guns.

"What's going on here?" barked one of them, jabbing his gun at the boy nearest him, who looked about Tilden's age. He stumbled backwards.

"P-Please sir, we're helpin look for a missin kid."

Aiolin hurried over towards them, darting around the cluster of kids and stopping a little behind the boy that had spoken. "It's my brother. He got out while I was makin supper."

"Curfew was half an hour ago."

Aiolin glanced up at the square clock, squinting through the darkness. "I know, but he's only three. We gotta find him!"

The Peacekeeper hit her in the chest with the barrel of his gun. Aiolin stumbled backwards and tried not to flinch.

"You want a damn whipping little girl?"

"N-No sir."

"Curfew's up!" bellowed the Peacekeeper, his shout echoing around the square. "Return to your homes!"

Mary's mum hurried over, Mary and Sarah close behind her. "Sir, we had a report of a missing child-"

"How old is this boy?"

"Three," Aiolin replied.

"Old enough to take hisself home. Curfew's up; return to your homes!"

"But he's not-"

_Crack._

For a moment Aiolin was frozen, and then she was on the hard cobbles and her head was throbbing.

"Don't talk back to me!"

Mary knelt at her side and touched her shoulder. "Are you okay?"

Aiolin rubbed her head. "Think so. Help me up."

Mary did so, wrapping her arm around her waist.

"You are all to return to your homes immediately! Anyone caught loitering will be whipped tomorrow morning!"

Whispers ran around the square, and those searching began to scatter, bolting into the streets to hurry home. Mary gave her a sharp tug, and Aiolinlet herself be led from the square.

"Marley's a smart kid. Hopefully he'll come home when he's tired or hungry."

"I hope you're right."


	10. District Ten

Author's Note

I do not own the Hunger Games.

* * *

It felt like the entirety of District Ten was celebrating and partying. Another aVictor; another Victor so soon! Favour from the Capitol; more food and supplies; one less kid from their District dead.

Everywhere was singing; everywhere was dancing.

All except the Tanarsan homestead.

Their daughter was dead.

Their daughter was never coming home.

Nora was unsure if she knew how to cry, only that their Sammy was gone, dead. She wanted to be happy for the Vinsons, she really did, but she didn't know them; they ran some farmstead out in the sticks; she'd never met them.

Their soon was alone, and she hated herself door wishing he were dead and their Any was here instead.

No one ever expected the Games to truly affect them. The District was huge, what were the chances? Except this time the odds had not been in Sammy's favour, and she was never going to come home.

"It hurts me just as much," grunted Kolt. "Bit you can't stay hidden in bed forever. The boys need you."

"What good will it do?" she asked. They would only break her heart again.

"They need their mother," he replied.

She listened to them cry that night, and Kolt got up to comfort them.

She made herself else in the morning and prepare thick, gruelling oatmeal floor breakfast. By the time he boys came down for breakfast she had it prepared and doled out in bowls. They say at the table and stared sorry at the bowl in front of Sammy's chair.

Nora walked the boys to school that morning. It was hard work everyone continually offering their sympathy and condolences as though they were the first to have done so.

They walked home alone.

The Vinsons boy came home, Victor.

They couldn't attend hours alien outside the Victor's Village.

Life moved relentlessly onwards.


	11. District Eleven

**Author's Note**

I do not own the Hunger Games.

* * *

"Can you see them?" Chickadee alled shining the heavy duty torch down into the ditch. It was one of the old ones, leading into one of the large, old brick tunnels, wide and low, built way back before the Dark Days. No one quite knew what they were originally for, but a popular theory was that they were old rebel hideouts.

"No, not yet!" Jasmin shouted back.

"Do you want us to come help look?" shouted Robin.

"I think I can hear them! Be quiet!"

They waited, while Jasmin picked his way down the dark tunnel. The roof sloped, and eventually it was so low that he had to stoop and then bend over, and finally crawl on all fours.

"I see them!"

Whoops and cheers went up from his friends.

"Alright! Let's get them out of there!" cheered Alden.

Jasmine crouched down, setting his torch on the dark stone floor, and crawled towards the dogs. They had spotted the mother three days ago with a pppy in her mouth, and had been looking for them ever since.

There were plenty of stray dogs in Eleven, but there were also plenty of safer places for them to make dens.

Jasmine held his hand out and clicked his tongue coaxingly, the mother dog, a scruffy looking, white and brown thing with one raggedy ear, wagged her tail a little cautiously. Jasmin crept towards her. "Hey there."

She gave a shrill yap. Jasmin found a chunk of old bread in his pocket and held it out to her. She crept a little closer, and he tossed her the treat. She snapped it up and he found another. She edged closer. He tossed it to her, a little closer to himself this time. Again she gobbled it up and he held out a third piece. This time she crept close enough to take it from his fingers, licking her nose as she did so. He pulled out another piece and edged closer to where he could see her pippies curled up in a heap.

Chickadee crawled into the tunnel behind him. "Can you see how many there are?"

"Not yet." Carefully, he reached forwards and scratched the dog's neck. "Aw, she's a good girl."

Chickadee rocked back on her heels an shone her torch past him. "I count at least three. I brought the basket down."

"Let me see if she'll let me near thm first."

The last bitch with puppies they found had been fiercely defensive of them.

Jasmine crawled to her side, scratching her ears. She nuzzled against his hand. Tame for a stray, a lost or abandoned pet maybe It could make an awful sense for her to be thrown out when it was discovered she was with puppies.

He edged further past her, towards the puppies. Chickadee picked them out with her torchlight.

"I count four," he called back, holding his hand out to them. the mother pricked her ears a little and hurried back to them, but she didn't growl or snap. Jasmin reached out to pet one of the puppies and then scooped it up. The mother dog sniffed at it in his hand, wagging her tail uncertainly. He passed the puppy along to Chickadee, who showed it to the mother and then passed it along to Petal at the end of the tunnel. She cooed happily and then settled it in the basket.

They repeated the process with each of the remaining puppies, of which there were actually five.

"Hurry up!" Robin shouted. "It's starting to rain!"

When it rained, these tunnels leaked and often flooded. Jasmin scooped up the last puppy and hurriedly crawled back towards Chickadee. She scrambled back until the roof was high enough for her to stand, and then rushed out. Jasmin showed the remaining puppy to the mother so she would follow and then hurried after her.

The rain was growing heavier by the time they got out of the tunnel. He placed the last puppy in the basket, which was suspended down the ditchside with a rope. Robin and Alden hauled it up from the top. The mother dog began to whine.

"It's alright," Jasmin told her. "You'll be back with them soon."

She gave a cross bark.

Already puddles were forming round their feet, and their dark hair was sticking to their faces. Jasmin crouched down and reached out to the mother dog. She was barking frantically, her ears flicking back and forth. He clicked his tongue. "Come on, we get get you up there too. With your babies, right?"

She whined. "Jasmin knew she'd understood him. He wrapped his hands under her belly and lifted her up against him. "You'll have to give me a leg up."

Chickadee and Petal knelt, linking their fingers together so Jasmin could stand on them. They boosted him upwards. Alden caught his arm, heaving him up the rest of the way. He fell onto the wet ground, careful not to squish the little dog. She sprang up and raced over to dance around Robin , who had hold of the basket of puppies. He lowered it so she could sniff at them, while Alden turned to help Chickadee and Petal up the steep ditch side.

"Come on. Let's get them in out of the wet."

The five of them set off at a run, with the mother dog chasing at their heels. They charged into Chickadee's house, which was nearest. Her grandmother was home to watch the little ones. Robin and Chickadee put the basket of puppies down by the oven, and the mother dog rushed over to check on them.

"And just where did you get these from?" asked Chickadee's grandmother, looking down at the puppies.

"We rescued them from down the tunnels."

She frowned and peered into the basket. "Of course you did. And did you think about what you're going to do with them now?"

"It's okay," said Robin. "My sister wanted dogs now she's moved out. We can give them to her."

"Does she know this?"

"Well, no. But I'm sure she'll be happy."

"And who's going to care for them?"

"We are," said Chickadee, placing a bowl of water on the floor fr the mother dog. She lapped it up now she had finished checking on her puppies.

"We'll see what your parents say."

"I'll go tell my sister when it stops raining."

"They're so cute!"

"They're filthy."

"How old do you think they are?"

"Few weeks maybe," replied Jasmin, picking up one of the puppies. "Dad'll know better. But look at how adorable they are!"

Chickadee picked up another, tickling its ears. The mother dog wagged her tail.

"Do you think we should name her?"

"Probably. We can't just call her Dog."

"Or bitch."

Jasmin peered out at the rain. "I name her…. Rainy."

Rainy barked.

"See, she likes it!"


	12. District Twelve

**Author's Note**

I do not own the Hunger Games.

As of this chapter, Nihil Novi is being put on hiatus while I finish the next set of chapters. It will eventually return.

* * *

Trembling, Dia flung the thin blanket over the motionless figure. It didn't so much to hide it, but she had to do something to try and stop the little ones seeing.

Back inside the building, a few of the kids living there ere beginning to stir. Dia caught the arm of Rose, one of the eldest girls at fifteen and roommates with poor Lillia lying outside in the cold.

"I need you to run and get the Peacekeepers."

"What?"

It was a fair response. The Peacekeepers were the start of most trouble in Twelve, especially when they decided to start preaching their Capitol or District Two morals. People were starving to death here, but pride in your identity, that was what mattered.

"Why?"

"Don't ask questions, just go."

"Is this about Lillia not coming back last night? Acos that were nothing to do with me."

"I know. Just- Just go. I'll give you extra oatmeal the rest of the week."

Rose's eyes lit up. "Now you're talking!"

"Take your jacket!" Dia shouted as she bolted.

"Where's she going?" asked little Meada as she trotted down the stairs. Dia hurried to take her shoulders.

"Out to deliver a message. Come along, through to the dining room now."

"Yes Miss Dia."

Dia led her through and lifted her onto one of the chairs, setting a bowl in front of her before hurrying over to where Lynn was ladelling more oatmeal into the wooden bowls.

"I need a word."

"Aye?"

Dia pulled her aside into the pantry. She pressed her lips into a tight line.

"Now, what's all this fuss about?"

"Lillia's dead."

"What?"

"Lillia's dead. In the alleyway outside.

"Shit."

Dia was unsure if she'd ever heard the older woman swear before.

"What killed her?"

"Do I look like I know?"

Lynn muttered another curse.

"I've sent Rose to get the Peacekeepers."

"The P- Now what'd you go and and do that for?"

"Because there's a dead siteen year old in our alley?"

Lynn clicked her tongue and shook her head. "Go and call for Doctor Slate, tell him the situation."

"You're calling this a situation?"

"Do you think this is the first time this has happened girl?"

"I hope so!"

"Go on through to the hall and call octor Slate."

Dia supposed they'd need him anyway. She headed through to the hall and dialled the doctor's number. He answered with a sleepy 'hello? Slate here.'

"Uh, doctor. It's Dia from the Community Home. There-"

A small weight hit her leg. She grunted, steadying herself against the small table. A moment later, another weight hit her other leg. She looked down, finding the Colson twins now doing their utmost to climb her skirt.

"There- h- there- Jasper, Jaime, get off! I'm sorry doctor Slate, we have a situation here. Can you come?"

"I'll be there in thirty minutes."

"Thank- ow! Jaime!" She jerked her knee, knocking him off onto his bum. He stared up at her with watery blue eyes.

"Oh, no- Jaime-"

Jaime burst into loud, howling wails. Jasper, of course, joined in.

"I'll see you there."

"Yeah- Thanks-" She set the phone down and crouched to gather up the two sobbing boys. "Come on. Let's get you to breakfast?"

"Why did you do tha-a-at?"

"Because you- Oh, never mind. Come on, you're not hurt."

"I'm hur-r-rt!"

"You are not. Come on." She squeezed him gently and lifted him to his feet.

"Whyyyy did you do that?"

"Because you hurt me. Now come on."

"You're not hurt! I'm hurt!"

"Come on."

Firmly, she led them through to the kitchen. A year ago, the two had been the sons of the town baker and given almost everything they would want or need. A year ago, things had been different for them. the bakery had burnt to the ground and the little twins the only surviving members of the family. Their uncle had dropped them off at the Community Home six weeks later, where they were now the only two Merchant kids. He was quickly woring to rebuild the bakery.

Dia dropped them in chairs in the kitchen and placed bowls of oatmeal in front of them.

"Hate oatmeal!" screamed Jasper, smacking it aside. It hit Meada, who began to cry. Dia sighed and lifted her from the chair.

"It's alright. It'll clean right off."

By the time April and Kayana had finished in the bathroom, Dia had got Meada cleaned up and Bobby and Sally dressed, Doctor Slate had arrived. He was a tall man, greying at the temples, with pale eyes.

"Where's my patient?"

"She- ah- She- um- Here." A little numbly, she led him round to the alley. He knelt and peered under the blanket.

"Ah."

Lynn hurried out to join them.

"Let's have a look them. I'd estimate she's been dead over eight hours. Died yesterday evening some time?"

Dia shrugged. "Found her this morning."

Two large figures in white uniforms appeared at the end of the alley.

"What's going on here?"

"Fuck," whispered Rose from behind them. "Is that Lillia?"

"Rose, go back inside."

"It is, isn't it? That's why she didn't come back. Oh god, oh god, oh-"

"Rose! Inside, now!"

"How can you be so calm about this?"

"Inside!"

"But-"

"Now!"

Rose fled.

"I expect she got her daft self drunk last night and froze when she couldn't find the door," Lynn said. "There's no need for you to go round sticking your noses in."

"Mm," grunted Doctor Slater.

"Lillia was too intelligent to-"

"She's been strangled to death."

Lynn managed a smile. "You've a strange sense of humour Doctor. Now, I'll give Old Man Burnet a call and get her picked up."

"You aren't the law ma'am," grunted the Peacekeeper in Captain's stripes.

"Naw, but I do know sumat about saft teenage girls. Had enough of 'em come through." She shot Dia a sideways look, and Dia had a vague memory of dark ahri and a bright smile that was suddenly gone one day.

"And I am the doctor. She has clearly been murdered."

Lynn scoffed and waved a hand. "Who would murder her? She's no one."

Maybe no one was exactly what someone wanted, Dia thought bitterly.

"We'll have her taken down to the station," grunted the Captain. "You said you found her?"

"Yes sir."

"How did that come about?"

"I was emptying the bins, and she was just…"

Shit, she'd only seen Lillia yesterday. The girl had been screaming at her again and begging for more food. Had she secretly been trying to feed someone else. Was that what got her killed?

"Do you know who she is?"

"Lillia Black. She's one of our girls."

"Ah, so she lives here with you?"

"Aye," grunted Lynn. "For whatever it is she's worth."

Couldn't she have a little more sympathy, Dia wondered. She had watched Lillia grow from a boisterous nine year old to the fiery, prickly sixteen year old she was. Had been. And Lynn had known her longer.

"Do you know if she had any enemies?"

Lynn snorted. "I'm sure she had plenty."

Including, Dia thought, Lynn.

The Peacekeepers asked more and more questions on Lillia, but at last the other car arrived to take the poor girl away. Dia watched as the stretcher was loaded into the van.

Lynn cleared her throat. "That's that then. Come on, there's work to be done."


End file.
